Pain Runs Deep
by Clear Eyed Dreamer
Summary: Two lives intertwined running on two separate paths. Are they bound to come together, or split for eternity? B/V
1. Chapter 1

Pain Runs Deep

Pain Runs Deep is the middle story of the "Soul" trilogy. The first is "Windows to the Soul", which doesn't necessarily need to be read to understand this story. I make sure everything is explained for those who haven't read Windows.

Chapter 1

The past three days have been dark and gloomy. The rain has sufficiently washed away any hint of summer we had left and made way for fall. This was depressing. I've never really been a fan of rain, especially the kind that falls so hard that it stings on contact. I was supposed to go away to a beach front resort for work, but the test period was cancelled because of the rain. It makes me wonder why we hired scientists that think that rain is going to impact the study of a product that is to be used underwater. I will be considering a restructure when my father completely hands over the company to me. This particular scientist, the head of his division, wanted to reschedule in three days time. That was unacceptable. I've been tracking a certain ship through space for the past 7 weeks, and it should be landing in two days. He had looked at me like I had two heads when I told him that my boyfriend was returning home and that I would be unavailable. What a surprise, the forty-three year old scientist that lives in his Mommy's basement and does physics calculations in his spare time couldn't understand why I would rather spend time with a partner.

I sigh and place the palm of my hand against the tinted glass of the windows in my office. I watch the beads of rain run down the panes and hide behind my hand, only to reappear underneath and continue their journey. I should be working. I have figures that need to be looked over, expense reports that I need to sign, and I should really get in contact with my vice-president of sales at some point today. I hear a musical tone, signaling that I have just received yet another e-mail message. My e-mail inbox is like the rain today, there's so many already, what's one more little drop?

I turn around and walk back to my leather chair, sliding down into it. I click to open my inbox and roll my eyes. The new e-mail is a sponsorship request. I have a group of employees that deal with sponsorship requests, but yet, despite having the proper sponsorship e-mail address plastered on the form, people still send them to me. The vindictive side of me wants to make a new policy that states that any requests that come to me get declined automatically. The business woman side of me clicks the 'forward' button to send the message to a sponsorship representative.

When I first started out working for the company, Dad was still young and very much in charge. I was around nineteen and didn't want to take on too much at first, so I started out as the Sponsorships and Events manager. I loved that role, and being able to manage a group of employees and still be able to speak with the public. I didn't like some of the people I had to deal with though, mostly people who felt that they were entitled to our sponsorship dollars and got angry when we wouldn't throw our profits at them. From there I went into the role of vice-president of Communications, and am currently the executive vice-president. Dad still holds the title of President even thought I do most of the work that should fall under that title.

The media likes to rant about how Capsule Corporation, being such a large company, should elect a board of directors to be in charge. They think I'm an unsuitable executive vice-president and would make an even more unsuitable president when the time comes. I made quite a few enemies in the media when I was the vice-president of Communications. They were used to someone who would roll over and ignore their stories on how we misused our profits. When I took the position, I made sure that they were rightly informed of the facts, and communicated that any further slander of the corporation would result in a lawsuit. I refused to play their game, and I wouldn't be manipulated into giving them the quotes they wanted for their articles and stories. Some reporters have thus turned their eyes on me instead, which is fine.

I click on the next e-mail, which is a meeting invite concerning current media communications. I like to stay informed with our media strategies since I'm their favourite target. The subject of the next e-mail catches my eye, "Keywords: Bulma + Briefs retrieved". We have a media tracking program that sends anything with our keywords to my media employees. This must be some story for them to have forwarded it on to me.

I open the e-mail and scroll down, skimming over the story, which is a collection of different short gossip blurbs.

"Bulma Briefs, heiress to the Capsule Corporation fortune, has reportedly been traded in for a better model. This comes as no surprise, as many products of CC have been "traded in" for better quality products of competitors, apparently, including the vice-president. Ms. Briefs has been attending functions on her own as of late, sparking rumours that her decade long relationship with professional martial artist, Yamcha, was over. The truth to these rumours came out last night when photographers caught the young man with a younger, prettier, blonde woman in local club, La Spaz. Can Ms. Briefs' reputation really stand to take another hit?"

I rolled my eyes and glanced over the small picture that was included. I know that woman, she regularly models our products at conventions. He couldn't have picked someone that doesn't work for me to go tramping around with? I delete the e-mail and move on to the next. I must remember to tell the media employees not to send me any other articles like these. I don't care to know what they're saying about my personal life.

---

"Bulma, stop pacing," Taya's usual sweet voice is hardened by her command. Taya was my executive assistant when I was in charge of Communications, and has since decided to return to college. She's a darling and is my best human friend that isn't connected to Saiyan's in any way. She's short, and slightly bigger than I am. She has big brown, empathetic eyes and long purple hair. She laughs as I send her look over my shoulder.

I don't think I've been this nervous in years. My tracking device is reading that Vegeta should be landing sometime tonight, and I'm bubbling with anticipation and fear. It's been almost two months since I last saw him. He left not long after we reconciled the last time and Yamcha had walked out of my life for good. He wanted to remove distractions and get his priorities in order, so he left to train in space. I know how unpredictable this man is, and I'm afraid that he no longer has an interest in me. We don't much get along, and half the time he sees me as a nuisance, so for him to lose interest isn't that farfetched. Taya has been nice enough to stay and keep me entertained while I wait so I don't drive myself crazy.

"He will land when he lands. You making me dizzy with your pacing is not going to help," she says, trying her best to sound authoritative.

"I know, I know," I say, walking back and forth in the middle of my living room. I'm an independent woman who can stand on my own, but, I missed the Prince over the last two months and can't wait for him to get back. I wish I could completely confide everything in Taya, but I can't. She knows about Vegeta and I, but she knows nothing of him. I told her that he tests some secret training gear that is quite experimental and cannot be divulged to the public as of yet, which accounts for his absence. "But," I continue, "what if he met some really cute alien woman and wants to be with her?" I'm only half joking.

Taya giggles, "sweetie, I know there's some pretty weird and abnormal things on this planet, but there's no aliens anywhere near here. And, even if there were, they wouldn't look anything like humans and would probably have very incompatible genitalia."

I stop walking and turn to her with a grin, "silly Taya, of course there's aliens around here. I personally know many." The truth, but she'll take it as a joke, just like I intend. "Vegeta himself is an alien, and I can tell you right now that our genitalia are plenty compatible."

She laughs, "sure, you're dating an alien. It's every little girls dream to grow up and be with an alien. Forget princes, aliens are the way to go."

"Oh! He's one of those too!" I exclaim, to which I receive a confused look. "He's the prince of his alien planet," I explain, which sends her into another fit of laughter.

"Gee, Bulma, you're just so lucky," she says after a few moments of laughter, "I wish I could meet an alien prince."

"Keep trying and maybe someday you will," I tell her, keeping my tone serious. I sit down on the sofa beside her. "He just knows I'm waiting and is dragging it out just to torment me."

"I'm sure that's not true," Taya says.

"Oh, it is. He's evil and maniacal like that," I say, leaning back and closing my eyes. I open my mouth to say something when a sound from the back of the compound catches my attention. My eyes snap open and I jump to my feet, making my way to the back of the building with Taya on my heels. I lean on a window sill, looking out into the darkness. I smile and let out giddy laugh when I see the ship. "He's home," I say, turning and giving Taya and quick hug before pushing her gently the way we had come. "You can go now."

"Really, can I?" She responds sarcastically, letting me push her away.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves before walking out the back door. I step to the side of our porch and lean on the railing while I watch the ship. It isn't long before a figure exits. I smile to myself as he walks closer. His armor is damaged and scratched, but he seems to be fine from what I can tell in the dark. "Hey you," I say as he steps onto the porch.

He cocks an eyebrow in amusement from what I can tell. He stands away from me in the dark, so it's hard to make his features out. "Waiting?" He asks, his voice rougher than usual from its lack of use.

I shrug, "of course not, it's purely coincidental."

"Do you remember that I have sensitive ears by human standards?" He asks after a moment passes.

I chuckle slightly, "that's a rather weird question to ask. Yes, of course I remember."

He nods and steps closer to me and into the light from the outside lamp.

My eyes go wide, "Vegeta!" I scream, "what the hell happened?"

He cringes from the volume of my voice, "I was hoping you wouldn't do that."

I gingerly reach out and touch his cheek with my fingertips, trying to ignore the hurt that comes when he tenses from my touch. A long open slash goes the length of his cheek from his temple down to his jaw, just narrowly missing his eye. He was staring at me as I looked over the cut, concern, I'm sure, was evident in my eyes.

"It'll heal soon enough," he says, moving his head to the side and away from my hand. "A few of the metal casings inside the ship came loose and one flew at me as I hit Earth's gravity. It'll need to be fixed before I leave again."

"You've been on the planet for not even five minutes and already you're talking about leaving again," I say, trying to keep my voice from showing my disappointment. What did I really expect? Him to be happy to see me? I should have known better than to expect anything of him. I don't give him a chance to speak. "Come on inside, then, and get cleaned up. Every time you show up at my house you smell like you haven't bathed in months." I turn away from him and lead the way into the house.

I make my way into the living room as he goes in a separate direction towards the stairway to the second floor. Not another word is spoken between us. Any excitement I had felt has been squashed and replaced with a hollow feeling. This just stands to be another reminder that my heart is more tied up in this man than it should be. I plop down on the sofa and grab the nearest fashion magazine. I try to immerse myself in it instead of wondering if it's even worth it to wait and see if his majesty comes back down to see me.

I'm halfway through the latest and greatest in fall fashions when he steps through the doorway. I place the magazine down and look him over. The cut on his face looks better when it's not surrounded by dirt and debris. There are random scratches over his arms and I wonder briefly what other marks are under the muscle shirt and track pants he wears. He crosses his arms over his chest and waits for me to speak.

"Welcome home," I say quietly with a small smile.

"This isn't my home," he replies without missing a beat.

My mouth falls open for a second before I snap it closed. "Fine," I say, keeping my voice neutral. I stand up and walk across the living room. "It's late, I'm going to bed."

"You waited for me to tell me that?" He asks, watching as I walk towards him.

"Yes, Vegeta, that is my exact reason," I reply sarcastically. "Is that all you want to say or is there more?" I stop a few feet in front of him and cross my own arms across my chest, mimicking him.

He shakes his head. "No, I have nothing to say. Since you're so intent on going to bed, where am I to sleep tonight?"

"Where ever the hell you want to," I reply and move around him. I refuse to give in to the nagging voice of my brain telling me that he's lost all interest in me as I climb the stairs and walk into my bedroom. I quickly change into a short silk nightgown and lay down in bed, snuggling deep into my mountain of pillows and blankets. "Stupid Saiyan…" I mutter quietly, closing my eyes.

I toss and turn for an hour before I give in and sit up. I can't get my brain to rest and let me sleep. I huff and blow a piece of hair out of my face, before swallowing my pride and climbing out of bed. I know I won't be able to sleep until I know where Vegeta and I stand. I creep out of my room and down the hallway, all the while hoping that Vegeta has decided to sleep in the guest room that was given to him long before he started sleeping in my room. I knock lightly on the door and open it, walking silently inside and gently closing the door behind me.

"Hey, you," I say, sitting on the edge of the bed beside where he lays on his back. He grumbles something in another language without waking up. I frown, "Vegeta," I say, a little louder. Once again he says something in a language unfamiliar to me. I narrow my eyes and lean down in his face, "Vegeta, either you wake up, or I'll… I don't know, but it will not be pleasant!"

"More unpleasant than being woken up in the middle of the night by an irritating female?" he asks after a moment, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Yes, much more," I reply. "And, I am not irritating."

"Matter of opinion," he states, keeping his eyes closed.

"You are difficult," I lean down and bite his nose, effectively making him snap his eyes open. I sit back up with a smug look. "Now that I have your attention, we need to talk."

"Sleep, woman," he says, groaning, "we need to sleep."

"We can sleep later," I dismiss his statement easily. "I need to know if you met some strange alien woman that you, somehow, manage to find more attractive than me and have, thus, lost interest in me and have decided to pursue her."

He stares up at me for a moment before chuckling. "You're insane."

"Just answer the question," I return.

"No, Bulma, you still remain the only woman that I can stand to be around." He pauses before adding, "when you haven't completely lost your mind. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"You are such a jerk," I narrow my eyes at him. "You can't say anything nice, can you?"

He groans and turns away from me.

"Yeah, yeah," I say quietly, swinging my legs up onto his bed and laying down behind him. I loop my arm around his waist and move into him, finally content to sleep.

---

A/n: Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and enjoyed Windows. Reading all the lovely comments on the last chapter really made it all worth it. Knowing that there's so many of you who were looking forward to this story encouraged me to take whatever spare time I have and write. I could really ramble on and on, but I won't, I promise. I picked up some great new readers with the end of Windows, and retained some of my loyal ones, so, this entire story is dedicated to all of you.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First off, I mean no offence to anyone who reads this chapter who may be vegetarian. The dialogue is meant to show frustration on Bulma's part. I think I removed anything that may be misconstrued though.

Secondly, thank you for all the reviews. Your encouragement really keeps me going. And I love reading predictions and what you guys like from the chapters, it makes me sit here grinning like an idiot.

Thirdly, a sort of amusing story in reply to the review by Remembering Childhood who mentioned how the first-person narrative seems natural for me. Both my one-shots 'Deceased' and 'Regardless, I love' (both great stories that I'm quite proud of, you guys should go read, by the way) are written from the first person perspective of Bulma as well. Both were not meant to be, and I didn't realize until I was half-way through that they were, indeed, written from her perspective. I felt like smacking my head on the keyboard. xD

Pain Runs Deep

Chapter 2

A nice hot, steamy, skin-tingling shower was exactly what I needed. Unfortunately, the water that just shot out of the tap was anything but warm. In fact, it was downright freezing. I am not impressed, not at all. If this is any indication of how my day is going to go, I might as well go back to bed right now.

I walk out of my bathroom with a thick towel wrapped around my body, my hair dripping cold droplets, and a scowl on my face. I have no doubt that everyone in the building heard my shriek when I stepped under that cold water. I look longingly at my plush, warm, inviting bed. If I wasn't so intent on finding who used up all my hot water and strangling them, I'd slip underneath those covers and start the day over tomorrow morning. I hastily tie my hair back and throw on sweatpants and a tank top. I leave my bedroom, making sure to slam the door behind me. I quickly make my way to the kitchen, where I know I will find my mother. Her happy whistling greets me before I enter the room to find her sitting at the table having a cup of tea and reading a gossip magazine. "Mother, I am-"

"Bulma!" She exclaims, cutting me off, and jumping to her feet. She shuffles around the table and puts her hands on my shoulders, "isn't it such a lovely morning? And I have a great surprise for you!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Vegeta came back last night, but-" I say, but once again my mother cuts me off.

"Oh yes, of course, darling, but I knew you'd know about that already," she gives me a sly smile before continuing. "This surprise is one that I know you will be so excited about! I didn't know for sure whether it was going to happen or not, so I didn't want to tell you, but she showed up here this morning."

"She?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. Just what was going on? Who was 'she', and more importantly, did 'she' use up all my hot water?

"Your cousin, honey," my mother replied. She let go of my shoulders and grabbed her tea cup to rinse it out. "She's getting married in a couple months, and well, you know how she doesn't get along with her mother. She asked me to help her plan the whole thing. Of course, I couldn't turn the dear down. I've always dreamed of helping to plan a wedding, and I'm not getting any younger."

My nose scrunched up in distaste, both for the knowledge that my mother was trying to guilt trip me, and that my cousin was somewhere in the same building I was. Mesu is the daughter of my mother's sister. She had a falling out with her mother some years back, and tends to use my mother in place of her own. She moved a few hours away years ago, and I've barely seen her since. It's not that I dislike her exactly, she just irritates me. I know she's the one that used up all my hot water.

---

I lay on my stomach on my bed flipping through a technology magazine. I finished having a shower with a passable temperature of water about a half hour ago, and just threw on my sweatpants and tank top again. I ignored the little voice in my head that was trying to convince me to make myself flawless in an attempt to show up Mesu. I know I have nothing to prove and that's all that matters.

I was reading through an article on molecular technology when I heard a quiet knock on my door. I yelled to come in and looked up and smiled as Mesu entered my room. She was a tiny woman with curves that fit her frame. Her eyes were big and blue, and her hair was a dark magenta with streaks of light pink throughout. It was straight and cut just below shoulder-length. She wore faded black jeans, and a tight purple t-shirt with her name emblazoned in black across the front.

"Hi Bulma," she said, stepping further into my room. "I didn't see you all morning or afternoon so I thought I would come up."

"It hasn't been a good day, Mesu," I replied, carefully laying the magazine down so as not to lose my page. "It all started with stepping into a cold shower."

She laughed nervously at the irritation in my voice. "Oh, sorry about that. I just got in, and I really needed to shower after that plane ride. I was sitting beside the most disgusting man, and was scared his smell rubbed off on me."

"How long are you staying?" I asked, ignoring her explanation.

"Oh, just a couple months. Your mother is such a doll for helping me with all of this. She offered up the backyard for the ceremony. It's just lovely out there with all the flowers and greenery, I just couldn't decline." She giggled. "I just wish Hax could be here to see it. He has to work over the next couple of months though, so all the plans are left up to me."

"Where does he work?" I ask, feigning interest.

"He owns a four star restaurant and is also their head chef. I accidently bumped into him at his restaurant one night and it was love at first sight." She sighed lovingly, before coming back down to reality. "So, are you still working with your father?"

I nod, and stretch my body out before sitting up on my bed. "I'm basically running the company now. All he has to do is pass over the title and it will be official. What do you do?"

"I just finished getting my law degree last year," she states proudly. "Hax let me take some time off between school and starting to work. He can't wait until we're married and have a couple children. He wants the perfect little family and the perfect little life."

I raise an eyebrow in curiosity. It's interesting how she managed to turn a question about her employment into an answer including her 'darling' Hax. It's so interesting that it makes me want to vomit. On her. Then shove her into a cold shower to clean off. I grin wickedly at her, which she ignores.

"Are you still with that martial artist?" she asks in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"No, we broke up a while ago." I reply, making sure my voice with filled with disinterest.

"I'm sorry, I guess I should have assumed. I mean, you were together for years and years, and it was obviously going nowhere," she laughed slightly, "I don't know how you managed to last that long."

"You know, Mesu, not everyone is looking to get married, have kids and settle down," I say, keeping a sharp tone to my voice.

"You're a little testy about this, aren't you?" Mesu replies, cocking an eyebrow in amusement, "do you not have another possible boyfriend?"

"Maybe I'm testy because I don't like having my love life dissected by a lovesick little brat," I state.

"Hey, no need to get defensive," she states, "there's no shame in being single."

I narrow my eyes and get to my feet, silently enjoying that I stand an inch taller than Mesu as I walk up to her. "I am not single, Mesu, I just don't feel like discussing him with you." With a final look of disdain, I shove past her and leave my bedroom. Cocky, egotistical, love sick, hot water stealing little brat. How dare she lord the fact that she's getting married over my head? I'm happy with my life as it is.

I walk through the house to the kitchen and grab a vodka mixed drink from the fridge. I screw the cap off the bottle and take a drink. I sigh and walk outside to the porch, grabbing a light jacket on the way. I step out and immediately take notice of Vegeta's presence. He leans on the railing staring off into the sky. I walk over and lean on the railing beside him. "I'm hiding, what are you doing out here?"

He shrugs, "can't do much of anything until my ship is repaired. What's the difference whether I'm in a building or outside of it?" He pauses for a moment. "Who are you hiding from?"

"Mesu," I reply with a bitter chuckle, "or have you had the pleasure of meeting my cousin, yet?"

He smirked, "your mother was pestering me with questions when she arrived. I managed to slip out unseen."

"Lucky you. She hunted me down," I say before taking another drink from the bottle. "I will be more than happy to spend my time repairing your ship. Maybe she won't think to look for me there."

"Why is she here?" He asks, his tone sounding bored.

"She's getting married and my mother is helping her plan it," I say, rolling my eyes.

"The human concept of marriage is inane. Having a party and a large celebration is hardly needed to pledge yourself to a single mate," he states.

"Do Saiyan's have something similar?" I ask, looking at his profile as he stares out.

"I suppose. There's no ceremony or party, it's more an agreement of faithfulness between two Saiyan's made in private. We don't place the same values as humans do on public displays of unions," he explains.

"I see," I reply. I turn around and hop up to sit on the railing. "So, are we exclusive? I mean, I'm not having sex with anyone else." He narrows his eyes slightly, finally turning his head to look at me, which makes me look away from him. "I mean, again…" I say quietly. I silently wish I could take back the night I went to Yamcha for comfort.

"You always have to push for more, don't you?" He asks after a moment's pause. "I have more honor than to have sex with another while I'm with you."

I look back at him and nod, "alright then."

"You're placated for the moment?" He asks.

"I suppose. I can always bug you for more commitment later," I say and laugh as he narrows his eyes at me.

"You're pushing it, woman," he growls.

"You love it," I reply, and jump down off the railing.

Vegeta turns to watch me silently as I grab my bottle and finish off the contents.

I drop the bottle and stand in front of him, leaning forward slightly. "You know, since we both have nothing to do, I can think of something that could entertain us until dinner."

"Can you?" he replies with a smirk.

"Uh huh," I nod, "and if you can be so kind as to follow me to my bedroom, I will be more than happy to let you in on what I'm thinking of."

---

Tired but content, I walk down the central downstairs hallway towards the dining room. Dinner is always served promptly at six o'clock, and it nears that time now. "Sure you want to eat with us tonight? I don't even want to eat with my family tonight," I say to the man walking beside me.

Vegeta just shrugs in reply. "I'm only here for the food, I can tune all of you out."

"How endearing," I say with a roll of my eyes. I open the door and walk through to the dining room. My mother is puttering about talking to herself, but otherwise, no one is there. I shrug and take a seat at the table. Vegeta sits down beside me and I throw him a smile, enjoying the normalcy of the moment. I take the lack of people as an opportunity to serve myself before anyone else comes in and I have to vie for the various bowls and plates of food. It isn't long before my mother sits down and gives both Vegeta and I disapproving looks for starting to eat.

"Where's your surrogate daughter?" I ask her between bites.

"She should be here in a moment, dear, she's just speaking with your father," my mother states.

I nod and bite off another mouthful of chicken just as Mesu and my father walk in. She looks a tad taken aback at the presence of Vegeta, but quickly covers it with a smile and sits down. "Sorry we're late, it's all my fault," she says to my mother and me before turning her gaze on Vegeta, who doesn't even bother to glance at her.

I shrug, "didn't put off my dinner any."

I see my mother send me a disappointed look from the corner of my eye, and I roll my eyes in response.

"I'm glad, I would have hated to hold off your ripping into that poor dead animal," Mesu replies with a frown. "I couldn't imagine doing something so barbaric. I'm a vegetarian," she says like it's an accomplishment.

"I don't remember you being a vegetarian ten years ago when you'd full your face with greasy fast food burgers," I say absently.

"Oh, Bulma, hush," my mother scolds, "I think that's absolutely commendable. In fact, I think we could do with some willpower around here. As long as you're visiting, I'll make sure nothing I cook was once living."

"Looks like it's back to hunting and eating dripping raw meat again," Vegeta pipes up, more to gross out Mesu than anything else, I suspect.

I smirk at him as his words have the desired impact on her.

"It won't be that bad, Vegeta, you'll see," my mother says, completely oblivious to Mesu's disgust. "It'll be a nice change of pace from meat."

"I think I'll be cooking my own food for the next couple of months," I say, irritated with my mother's need to please guests. "And it will contain many different parts of animals."

"That is so sad, Bulma, that you value meat over eating supper with your family," Mesu interjects. "Would you honestly rather eat alone?"

"Vegeta will eat with me," I throw back at her.

"I'm not eating your cooking," he says, not missing a beat.

"Traitor," I reply. I glare across the table at Mesu, hoping the next two months pass quick.

---

I sit at the kitchen table after supper wondering why I agreed to have tea with my mother and Mesu. My mother is chattering on about wedding ideas and I'm trying not to fall asleep. This whole subject bores me. It isn't until I hear Vegeta's name that I start to pay attention.

"So, who is that man, Vegeta, that ate dinner with us?" Mesu asks, curiosity lacing her words.

"He lives here," I reply, sending a bored look her way, and slumping back in my chair.

"Oh, Bulma, honey, it's a little more than that," my mother giggles.

I shrug, "I suppose." I refuse to give Mesu the satisfaction of discussing this.

"What happened to his face?" She asks about the cut going down the side of his face.

"I beat him up," I reply, and stand from my chair, "excuse me." Without a moment's pause, I leave the room. I know Mom will full in the blanks for Mesu about who Vegeta is, and I really don't want to be around to hear it. I walk into the living room to find Vegeta sitting on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. I plop down beside him and lay my legs across his. "What are you watching?" I ask, motioning to the television where commercials are playing.

"Trash, like most of Earth's programming," he replies.

I smile and kiss his cheek, "you're so cute in your cynical ways."

"Don't patronize me, woman," he says.

I glance at the television as "Interview with a Vampire" starts to play. A classic movie in my opinion, and it also reminds me of a question I was meaning to ask. "Do you really eat raw meat?"

Vegeta nods in reply. "I'm a carnivore."

"Seriously?" I ask, completely intrigued by this. "I so didn't know that. I've seen you eat things other than meat though."

"On occasion," he agrees, "but I don't need to, nor do I have a taste for it."

"That's… kind of creepy actually," I say with a laugh. I stare at his profile for a second before turning my attention to the movie playing and resting my head on his shoulder.

It isn't long before Mesu makes an appearance and sits down in a chair. I see her look at us out of the corner of my eye. I'm hoping that she'll go away if I ignore her for long enough, although I doubt that I'm that lucky. As soon as a commercial break starts, she opens her mouth, and I jump to my feet. "Popcorn, I need popcorn. I'll go make some."

Vegeta grabs my arm and pulls me back down beside him, "you are not going anywhere."

"Spoilsport," I reply with a pout.

Mesu laughs in a very fake way, "oh, Bulma, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get away from me."

"Why, Mesu, whatever would give you that idea?" I reply, batting my eyelashes for emphasis.

"Oh shush, you're going to give people horrible opinions of me," Mesu says happily as she glances at Vegeta.

"If you're referring to me," Vegeta breaks in, "I've already formed my own horrible opinions of you."

"Well, you're just pleasant, aren't you?" Mesu replies with a forced smile on her face.

"If you don't like it, feel free to avoid me the rest of the time you're here," Vegeta offers as he turns his attention back to the screen as the commercial break ends.

I giggle at Mesu's bewildered look and shrug as she looks back to me. She slumps back in the chair with a defeated look and turns away from me to watch the screen.

I stifle the laugh of triumph I want to let out and cuddle into Vegeta's side. "I am so glad you're back. Things just aren't as entertaining around here without you," I say quietly before immersing myself in the events of the vampires on the screen.

A/N: I have this entire story plotted, I just have to find the time to write it out. Mesu, I suppose, is the replacement for Lait in terms of an instigator. She's beneficial for the advancement of the story, not just some random person I decided to throw in for the fun of it. I may do some sketches of the different OC's from this trilogy at some point, I have to think on it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

CED


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: … I have nothing to say this time around… it's close to 1:30 am, and I have to be up in 5 hours for work. I got started writing and I just couldn't stop. So, without further wait, I give you the next chapter.

Pain Runs Deep

Chapter 3

My body is pressed up against the wall and my eyes are squeezed shut. I listen for footsteps or any other sign of human life. I take a couple steps forward while keeping my body against the wall. I hold my breath as the sound of dishes clinking against one another sounds in the distance. Footsteps follow, coming closer with every second that passes. I move quickly and duck around a corner, making sure to flatten my body against the wall again.

"What are you doing?" The masculine voice makes me jump and I whirl around to scowl at Vegeta.

"Shush, she'll hear you," I exclaim quietly, poking a finger into his chest.

He looks half amused at my fear of Mesu finding me. "Aren't you a little old to be skulking around your house?"

"You would think, wouldn't you?" I reply, and turn back toward the doorway. I slowly stick my head around the corner and look both ways. With no sign of Mesu I take a step into the hallway. I listen for any noises before making a mad dash for the door to my personal lab. I come within five feet when I hear my mother call my name. I skid to a halt, pondering what to do. I can risk going to see my mother, but will probably come into contact with Mesu, or, I can go into my lab and pretend I never heard her and immerse myself in work.

I drop my head and growl under my breath as I turn and stalk back to the kitchen. I walk in to find my mother sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. "What's up?" I ask, taking a quick look around for any sign of my cousin.

"Sit down," my mother says, motioning to a chair across from her. "We haven't had a chance to talk in so long."

"A day, Mom," I remind her as I sit down.

She giggles, "well, it seems like so much longer."

"Of course," I agree, "you've been so busy with darling Mesu for the last seven days, two hours, and 47 minutes," I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"There's so much to plan though," my mother says, oblivious to my emotions. "I was wondering if you would be able to help us, we'd love it ever so much."

I bite my tongue, swallowing the insults and exclamations that were sitting on the tip of it. "As much as I'd love to help, I just don't have the time. You know, I'm already juggling work and repairs to Vegeta's ship."

"Can't you take some vacation? Your daddy does own the company." I hear the voice of my cousin behind me and whip my head around to glare at her.

"Regardless of who owns the company, I have responsibilities and can't just throw them out the window because a relative is getting married. Isn't it enough that I'm taking time off around your wedding to attend it?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"Well, I just thought that you'd be happy to help, since you won't be having a wedding of your own to plan any time soon," Mesu replies, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Excuse me?" I ask, getting to my feet. How dare that little brat come into my life and start judging. She makes it so easy to remember why I dislike her so much.

"I don't mean to offend you, Bulma, really, but you can't deny that your boyfriend is a little anti-commitment. Even I can see that," She says with a forced chuckle.

"How can you see anything when your head is shoved so far up your own-"

"Bulma!" My mother interrupts me.

I growl and step up to Mesu, "you know nothing about me and even less about him. I suggest you stop fooling yourself into believing that you're the expert on relationships when your farce of a marriage probably won't even last two years!"

"At least I didn't waste ten years hoping a man would commit to me," Mesu replies, "and history seems to be repeating itself."

"If I remember correctly," I reply, my tone low and dangerous, "I decked you five years ago, want to see history repeat itself again?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Bulma," Mesu states, sticking her nose in the air.

"That's a pity, you should be," I hiss as I push past her.

---

I sit in the middle of the ship with various tools and equipment laid out around me. I'm working on one of the central navigation systems that had gone offline. I have my radio blasting pop music as I try to stay calm and keep myself from thinking about the thing that has invaded my house. It isn't until I see a splash of water hit my wrench that I realize that a tear has escaped my eye. Why can't I ever just be happy? Why can't I just be left alone? My mother and Mesu are so likeminded when it comes to men and relationships. I know it disappoints Mom that she's never been able to help plan my wedding, and I know that deep down she believes that I'll never get married. She won't voice it, but I know. To a woman like her, marriage and family is the ultimate goal. I will never achieve those things with Vegeta, and sooner or later, my mother is going to realize this. The more I think about it, the more I find myself agreeing with Vegeta that a wedding is an inane idea. Why do I need to have a party to prove that I'm committed to someone? I'm happy with things as they are and with the small advancements in my relationship. My mother would never understand that though. I know that she's proud of everything that I've accomplished in my life, but I also know that she wishes that I had been more like her than my father. I was supposed to be her little girl, the one that she could dress up when young, and plan parties with when older. I wasn't supposed to have the intellect of my father.

I wiped my eyes and placed the wrench on the ground. I think I need to have a chat with my mother. I leave the ship to find my mother in the kitchen preparing dinner. I had convinced her to continue cooking enough meat to feed Vegeta and I, although she had protested quite loudly about it. Thankfully, Mesu is no where in sight. "Mom, can we talk?" I ask, grabbing some vegetables and a knife.

"Of course, honey," she replies as she oversees the contents of a pot on the stovetop.

"I don't want to help with this wedding. I have enough going on in my life right now without worrying about that as well," I say.

"That's alright," she says, "I know things are rough with Vegeta."

I sigh as I chop a couple carrots, "things aren't rough, Mom."

"Alright, sweetie, whatever you say," she says absent-mindedly as she grabs the chopped vegetables and throws them into the pot.

I roll my eyes and place the knife down. "Glad we had this talk," I mutter under my breath and walk towards the living room.

---

My eyes snap open. A noise from downstairs has woken me up from a deep sleep. I glance beside me where the Saiyan prince is still sound asleep. How did something wake me up, but not him? That's strange. He tends to wake up even when I make the smallest of movements in my sleep. It used to insult me, but now I know that he's just used to sleeping alone and with his guard up. I frown as I look into his face. Such a tortured soul, not being able to sleep without fear of being attacked. I could never imagine living a life like his. The noise from downstairs catches my attention again and I stand up from the bed, trying hard not to awaken Vegeta. I slip a long silk robe on to cover my naked body before making my way out of my room and down the stairs.

"Hello?" I call. No answer, but there's a light on in the kitchen. I slowly walk towards it as I listen for any more sounds. "Hello?" I call again as I walk into the kitchen. I look around but see no one. I shrug and turn back towards the door, but find myself suddenly face to face with Mesu. I roll my eyes. "What do you want?"

"Cousin, such harshness towards me," she says with a haughty chuckle. "What happened to family love?"

"I'm not entirely convinced that you're family," I reply.

"Oh you wound me, darling, like a stab wound in my gut." Again, she lets out the haughty chuckle.

"What did you just say?" I ask carefully.

"But you wouldn't know anything about stab wounds, would you darling?" she continues. "The wrenching pain and anguish, feeling your life blood slip away from you."

"You are not Mesu," I say quietly, a look of horror plastered on my face as I take a step backwards. I thought this was over. I thought the nightmares had ended. I stifle a gasp as the woman in front of me changes shape into that of another woman, one I had once called a friend, the one I had killed in self defence. "This is not real, this is just a nightmare." I state, keeping my voice strong.

"There's a fine line between nightmares and reality, babydoll, you should keep that in mind," Lait says with an insane laugh as she reaches down and grips the knife handle that sticks out of her gut. She pulls it free from her flesh and lunges at me with it. I throw my arm up and manage to knock it from her hands. She grabs my wrists and holds on tight. "Not so tough right now, are you?"

I growl and wrench my wrists out of her grasp. I grab for her throat, twisting my fingers around her tiny neck. I feel a jostle and my eyes snap open to a different place and time. I'm in my living room with Mesu's throat in my hands. I gasp and let go. She stumbles backwards and grabs her throat. I look around in a panic, Vegeta stands near to the doorway watching me, and Mesu is staring at me with wide eyes.

"I don't… Mesu, I'm sorry," I say quietly. I don't understand, what happened? Am I still dreaming?

"You freak!" Mesu exclaims and stalks out of the room.

I watch her go before looking at Vegeta, "what happened?"

He walks over to where I was sitting and kneels on the floor in front of me. "You were sleeping and she tried to wake you up. You grabbed her around the throat. What were you dreaming about?"

"I was fighting," I chuckle uncomfortably. "Maybe my lashing out at Mesu in my sleep is an expression of my waking feelings towards her."

He regards me for a moment longer as if trying to read my thoughts. He takes one of my hands in his and I watch his eyes as he seems to scan my wrist. "What did you do to yourself?"

"Huh?" I ask, confused by his question. I lower my eyes to where he's staring and gasp in horror. My wrists… there's faint purple bruises encircling them. I can feel myself starting to hyperventilate as panic flows through me. I take my hand out of Vegeta's and raise both wrists in front of my face. Both have identical markings, like someone had squeezed my wrists. I look at Vegeta and shake my head, "no,no, this is a dream, just a dream."

"This isn't a dream," he replies, "and what is going on? Where are the bruises from? Tell me now."

"I dreamed… I dreamed about Lait," I tell him quietly, "for the first time in months. I was fighting her when Mesu woke me up…" I trail off. I expect him to say something and when he doesn't, I continue. "She had held me by my wrists."

"You expect me to believe that these marks were caused by a dream?" he asks, skepticism evident in his voice.

"She had told me that there's a fine line between nightmares and reality, what if she had found a way to break through?" I ask quietly, trying hard to sound rational. Every logical piece of my mind is telling me that what I'm saying is impossible, yet I know my wrists weren't bruised before I fell asleep.

"That's ridiculous," Vegeta replies as he stands up straight.

"Really?" I ask, "you don't think I've realized this? Every part of my brain is telling me that I'm nuts for even considering such an option, but the fact of the matter is that there were no marks on my wrists before I fell asleep. You can either believe me or not, it's your call."

"You grabbed that insufferable woman in your sleep, you may have grabbed your own wrists as well," he points out.

"That would be possible," I agree as I place my right hand around my left wrist, "if the marks lined up with my hands. The marks are too thin, it can't be from me. And Mesu's hands would be too small to match the marks, but you were standing in the doorway and would have seen her grab my wrists anyway. Do you have any other explanation?"

He glares at me for a moment before finally shaking his head. "No."

I take a deep breath as I look at my wrists again, twisting my arms so I can examine them from all angles. How could someone in a dream possibly cause physical injuries? And better yet, why now?


	4. Chapter 4

Pain Runs Deep

A/N: I've decided to continue this story after a long time away from it. I had to go back and read everything again, but it was worth it. Please don't hesitate to leave a review, I love to read them.

Chapter 4

I sit and stare forward. There's a lit computer screen in front of me, and a list of unread e-mails staring back. Somehow my brain just doesn't want to focus on the words. I rub my eyes even though I'm not tired, and lean back in my leather office chair. What is wrong with me? I think I have too much going on in my life right now. Not only do I have to deal with my alien boyfriend being back on Earth (and is he really my boyfriend?), and my little cousins extremely expensive wedding, but now I have mysterious bruises appearing on me in places where someone in a dream had grabbed me. I absently lift my hands and look at where the mostly faded bruises once shone bright purple. Maybe I need post-traumatic stress counselling?

I sigh inwardly. How could I possibly explain to a therapist what is wrong with me? Let me see now… my alien boyfriend, who happens to be a Prince from a dead planet, has serious commitment issues and deep psychological scarring to the point that he will never love or trust me. My mother has decided to become surrogate mother to my cousin and continually make hints about how my life will never match the picture in her head of what she wants for me. My father is completely ignorant of any and all of this, and doesn't understand why my work hasn't been up to par. My annoying little spoiled brat of a lovesick cousin is trying to steal my family and is continually flaunting her 'perfect' life. And finally? Well, the woman I killed a couple months ago is now coming to me in dreams and leaving marks on my physical body. Alright, so maybe the family troubles are slightly normal, but pretty sure the alien man and dead woman attacking me would be enough for them to put me away in a crazy house.

Thankfully, in the past week, I have convinced Mesu that my attacking her was only me sleepwalking and mimicking the actions from my dream. I think she forgave me, but she hasn't tried to wake me up since, which I'm perfectly fine with.

Mesu has now been living with us for two weeks, which is two weeks more than I would have preferred. I have managed to complete repairs on Vegeta's ship in that time, and I know it's only a matter of time before he leaves again. I have considered the option of going with him to avoid Mesu, but I don't think that's a really viable option. Besides, he left to get away from me, which I have chosen to respect and not to think of the crushing pain from the man I love not being able to stand to stay around me.

I pull myself from my thoughts again and once again stare at the computer screen. I'm not getting any work done today. I minimize my e-mail and stand from my chair. It's time to go home.

* * *

"So, are you going to be a bridesmaid, Bulma?" Mesu asks me. She's standing by the stove chopping vegetables with my mother.

I look up from the wedding magazine that I had absently grabbed and started to flip through. It was just sitting at the kitchen table, my grabbing it to browse was merely instinct. "No," I reply, "I've seen the dresses you picked out."

"Bulma!" My mother chastises me. "That's not very nice, the dresses are just darling. I love the big pink bow on the hip and the matching big pink flower on the hat."

"Sorry," I mutter. The dresses Mesu picked were a cotton and polyester mess. They were a pastel pink, and way too… fluffy. Not to mention the bow and flower that my mother had kindly brought up. Mesu had guaranteed that no one would be looking at her bridesmaids with those dresses. I, personally, would have picked something classy. My bridesmaid dresses would have been a soft yellow, fitted and simple. I sigh before I can catch myself.

My mother looks over at me with a frown, but I pretend not to notice and she doesn't say anything.

"I can't believe it's a month and a half away," Mesu was rambling on, "there's still so much to do, so much to plan."

"You could always push the wedding back and go home," I offer up, trying to help alleviate her stress, of course. I glance up to see my mother giving me a disapproving look. "Sorry," I mutter again.

"It's alright," Mesu says, her voice dripping with mock understanding, "I know she's only lashing out at me because of the shortcomings of her own relationship."

"My relationship has no 'shortcomings'," I grit my teeth and try to keep from snarling at her.

"Hm, have you seen your boyfriend?" Mesu says, continuing to cut the vegetable in front of her, "he is the epitome of 'short'." She laughs at her own stupid joke, completely unaware that the man in question has just entered the room.

Vegeta cocks one eyebrow and shakes his head, "I would insult you back, but there's no sport in it, it's simply too easy."

Mesu whirls around and looks at him in complete embarrassment. Before she can stutter off an apology, I can't resist.

"Too easy," I say, "like Mesu!" I roar with fake laughter, making Vegeta smirk with amusement in response to my overly enthusiastic display.

Mesu sticks her bottom lip out and narrows her eyes at me. "You are so immature," she says haughtily, before turning to dump the cut up vegetables into the pot of boiling water.

"I know you are, but what am I?" I answer in a childish voice. I stick my tongue out at her, and make a stupid face.

"You know something, dear?" Mesu turns to lean back on the counter and regard me. "At least dealing with you will give me great training for when I become a mother. It's a good thing you will never require that training." She glances at the man retrieving a bottle of water from my fridge, before looking back to me with a smug look.

"Oh really?" I say, jumping to my feet. I don't really know why, but that comment seems to have struck a nerve with me. "When you become a mother?" I ask, "so, is that the reason for the short engagement, Mesu?" My voice is now dripping with venom, "are you with child? Did you get knocked up? It's a shotgun wedding, then?" Before anyone can get a word out, I storm off. I want to be alone.

* * *

Later that night, my mother finds me brooding in my lab. It's the only place I can go to get any peace, and my mother rarely enters that space. I'm surprised when I see her come through the door.

She makes a disapproving click with her tongue as she regards the mess surrounding her. In my defense, it's an organized mess. Well, a mostly organized mess.

I sigh and plop my butt down on a stool and wait for her to make her way to me. She chooses to stand in front of me instead of taking the opposite stool. This was going to be a mothering moment.

"I think you owe your cousin an apology, darling," she says, as stern as she possibly can.

"Yeah, yeah," I dismiss her comment with a wave of my hand, "I'll apologize tomorrow, alright?"

She hesitates before continuing, "I also wanted to talk to you about how you've been behaving with your cousin. It's unbecoming of a young lady."

I roll my eyes and nod.

"Honey, is everything alright?" She asks, her worry evident in her voice.

"Just great," I say absently.

"I was just thinking, dear, that maybe you didn't know what you wanted until you saw someone else get it," she ponders, "like my garden. I didn't know I wanted that lovely pink rose bush until I saw our neighbour get the exact same variety. I rushed right out and bought my own bush. And my, is it beautiful, and makes my garden complete."

"Mom, is there a point to this?" I groan.

She smiles at me and pats my hand, "maybe you thought you were content with daisies, but when you saw someone else with roses, you realised that roses are what you really want. And, as much as you love daisies, your garden won't be complete without those roses."

I stare at my mother in shock. Did she really just relate my life to… to flowers?

"Oh well, I was just thinking," she laughs airily, "but I'm sure you already thought about it. Such a smart girl, Bulma." She smiles at me, pats my hand again and makes her way out of my lab.

I stare at the door she has just passed through. Is my mother trying to sabotage my relationship with Vegeta? She adores him, she thinks he's just swell. Or I thought she did. Maybe she had expected things to escalate quicker than they have. But, that brings about another question entirely. Will our relationship ever really escalate? Vegeta has told me that he cannot love me, and has expressed his disdain for human traditions like marriage. Would he ever be open to having a child? Do I even want children? I absently moved my hand over my stomach. Could I go through life never having an heir and be happy? Happy with a man who will never stay by my side, but instead only return to me briefly before leaving again? I don't think I have ever actually thought about what we have in the long term, I've always been so grounded in the present and the short term. I love Vegeta, but is love enough to go through my life primarily alone?

"Your mother has a point," a voice causes me to jerk my head up and I look around in confusion. There's no one there. The voice was quiet, almost a whisper. I shake my head, I must be hallucinating.

My brain is playing tricks on me, I decide, and turn back to the workspace in front of me. I let my eyes drop to the table and let loose a piercing scream. There, sitting neatly on my work surface, is the same knife that I had buried in Lait's abdomen only months prior. I jump to my feet and bolt to the door, stumbling to open it in my panic. I race through our backyard to our deck, where I can just make out the form of the Prince.

I can't see his eyes, but I know he is watching me intently. As I reach him, he grabs my forearms to keep me upright and support me. I'm breathing so heavily, and my head is reeling. "The voice… the knife…" I manage to gasp out between breathes.

"What are you talking about?" he growls, sounding slightly annoyed.

"My lab… the knife, it was there, on the table," I ramble quickly.

"Stop panicking," he commands.

Something about the stern tone to his voice makes me breakdown and I start to sob. Everything I thought I had moved past has returned. I'm scared to look at my hands for fear that I would see the blood all over again. I throw my arms around Vegeta and bury my head in the side of his neck. I feel him tense and hesitate, probably questioning my mental state. He sighs in annoyance, but puts his arms around me anyway.

After a moment, I pull back from him and wipe at my eyes before looking into his face. I force a smile, "I'm sorry, I think I'm just tired and overworked." I have to rely on myself, there's no sense getting into the habit of relying on someone who has no intention of being there.

"You're lying," he states, so sure of himself.

I run a hand through my hair and force a laugh, "no really, I'm alright." I'm so scared to show any emotion to this man, or to act in a way to make him think less of me. I know he thinks so little of humans to begin with, I'm not about to let myself appear weak. Or, I prefer not to let myself appear weak, but I'm certain my previous panic had given him doubts about whether I was worth his time. It may have also given him doubts on my mental state. Currently, I'm having doubts about my own mental state.

Vegeta regards me doubtfully, "fine."

I want him to push to know what had bothered me, I want him to care. Instead of giving way to those thoughts, I wind my arms around his neck. "I don't suppose you'd care to escort me back to my lab?"

"Afraid of the dark?" He asks me, slightly tauntingly.

I pout, "of course not. Do you think I'm a child?"

He shrugs, "sometimes you act like one."

I snort, "well, sometimes you act like a conceited, spoiled, egomaniac. Oh, wait! You are a conceited, spoiled, egomaniac."

"Clever," he replies. "Your insults are so eloquent and intelligent."

"Yeah, well, I'm rubber and you're glue," I say defiantly, placing my fists on my hips.

He gives me a look of confusion. "Glue?" he repeats.

"You know, because things bounce off me and stick to you," I explain.

"What things?" he questions.

"I… you know what, nevermind," I say with a true laugh. I pull on his arm in the direction of my lab. "Come on," I urge.

He rolls his eyes, but complies with my request. He follows me silently back to my lab.

I open the door slowly and look around the dimly lit room before entering. "Huh," I mutter. I had half expected to see the source of the voice from earlier.

I walk deeper into the room, and make a beeline for the table I had been at earlier. Not surprisingly, the knife was no longer there. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I laugh at myself. I must have been mistaken, or was so worried about other things that I saw something that wasn't there. I turn around to tell Vegeta that we can leave, but the words never even form on my tongue. His back is to me, and he's staring towards the near wall. My blood drains from my head and I start to feel dizzy.

Stuck into the wall was the same knife I had seen earlier, only this time it was stabbing through a pink rose.


End file.
